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seeingivy · 5 months

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french toast

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: enabled by @babiemay thank her for giving me the BIGGEST best friends older brother sukuna brain rot i've ever had in my life. (ooc sukuna again btw)

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

based on the seventeen years that sukuna has known you, he figures that you’ve already worked up some type of overthinking storm in your head when you arrive at his apartment two days later. and he knows for a fact that he’s right, because you’re at his doorstep with a pinched look on your face, clutching your purse like you’re about to get robbed.

“hi pretty girl. did someone make an attempt on your life today?”

you can feel your cheeks burning at the term of endearment, so phased you can barely coherently respond - or understand - what it is he said.

“no?” you respond, nearly sweating under his eye contact as he smiles.

“then why are you looking at me like you think i’m going to eat you?” he asks, annoyed as he gestures for you to walk into the kitchen.

you feel your head run in a spiral, at the implication of his words, as he places his hands flat on your shoulders, and guides you to sit at the stool on his little kitchen island. the entire ordeal - the breakfast, the fact that he’s peeling off your coat and pressing a kiss to your temple, and the lingering touches - they make your skin burn, almost itch with nervousness.

he stands on the other side of the counter, leaning forward on his forearms, as he smiles at you. and you try your best to figure out what exactly it is that’s beaming in his eyes as he leans forward.

“pick your poison.”

you feel yourself pale.

“huh?”

he frowns, as he leans back.

“for breakfast? what did you want to eat?” he clarifies.

you breathe a sigh of relief.

“anything’s okay. don’t trouble yourself. i-i can even help.”

you walk over to his side, pulling up your sleeves and giving him a peachy smile, as he takes the opportunity to step towards you. your back hits the counter and sukuna makes it a point - resting both of his arms at your sides - as he traps you within his hold.

“talk.” he states, almost sternly.

“hm?”

sukuna leans closer, leaning his forehead against yours, as he takes a deep breath. it reminds you vividly, of two nights ago, when he pulled you straight onto his lap. and murmured into your skin that you were his pretty girl. and that he was going to prove it to you.

“talk.” he states, the tone in his voice irritated.

you look up at him, at his eyes razor focused in on yours, and spot no inclination of irritation on his face. despite the fact that you were almost positive that it was dripping from his tone. though, you always found him particularly hard to read.

“now.” he murmurs.

you sigh.

“what are you trying to do right now?” you ask.

he rolls his eyes. there’s the irritation you were hearing.

“make you breakfast.” he deadpans.

“is that all?”

“what are you getting at?” he asks.

sukuna often finds that talking to you is like digging a hole. that it takes patience. because he’s not going to find what he’s looking for forthright. but he knows for a fact that there’s something down there.

it’s aggravating. but he persists.

“promise you won’t make fun?” you ask.

“i will do no such thing.”

“sukuna.” you whine, crossing your hands against your chest.

sukuna finds this part of you endearing. because it reminds him of all the different ways he’s seen you. when you were four and barging into his house to play wii with his little brother, explaining barbie movies at the dinner table, and tagging along on his family vacation when he was fourteen.

and how after all this time, you still have the same tendencies. you bounce your right leg when you’re nervous, tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re finished rambling, and curl your hands into little fists and cross your arms - entirely unable to meet his eyes - when you’re embarrassed.

sukuna clears his throat, as you look up at him. and you know the expression all too well. that he’ll wait all day if he has to.

“no making fun. i’m serious, sukuna.”

“it’s almost like you know you’re going to say something stupid.”

“don’t call my feelings stupid.” you murmur.

“well, i’ll keep calling them stupid until you tell me what they are. i’ll be honest if you let me.”

this is something you can appreciate about sukuna. that he won’t beat around the bush. or say things just to coddle. it’s the same as the other night, where you told him about what happened at the bar, when he didn’t rush to your defense like almost everyone else does. and when it comes to this, you figure that he’ll be straightforward.

“are you trying to have sex with me right now?” you ask.

you look at sukuna, specifically at the way his eyes widen, before he breaks out into a laugh. and not just any laugh, because he’s nearly keeling over with how amusing he finds it. howling even. and it makes even more blood rush to your cheeks, humiliated for even bringing it up.

sukuna grins, lifting his hands up from the sides of the counter and wrapping them around your neck.you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, as you instinctively shut your eyes. he’s going to be straightforward.

“your feelings are stupid.” he whispers, right into your skin.

you pull back, staring at him dumbfounded, as he places one of his hands on your waist. and he’s staring back at you, the expression in his face slightly amused.

“that’s not nice.”

“i’m not a nice person.”

it’s frustrating. the tone that he uses with you. it teeters between placating and teasing you and you find it hard to decide which one exactly it is. and it seeps right under your skin, lets your irritation come to a head faster than it usually would.

“okay, well. sue me! you had no problems doing god knows what in my room the other day. and-and then you were making jokes about how you were going to eat me. the second that i got here. and-and you know how you are-”

“and what’s that?”

you pause.

“what?”

“you said you know how you are. well, i don’t. enlighten me please.” he clarifies.

sukuna’s pleased with himself. because he’s figured out exactly what it is, that’s brewing in that head of yours. and naturally, he has every intention to make you mince your words.

“you-”

you’re not sure how to say this. if there’s a polite way to call him what he is.

“i’m what? a manwhore?” he asks.

“no! you-”

“you think i’m a horny freak, right? that i want to lift you up, take your skirt off, and have you right here on my kitchen counter?”

you feel your eyes go wide, as you swallow hard, and feel the nervousness take residence in your stomach. sukuna senses it fast enough and makes his efforts to diffuse it.

“do you think i would only invite you here because i want you to please me? do you think that’s the only way i can enjoy your company?”

you can feel yourself getting too overstimulated, your head nearly steaming - at the implication, at the way he’s looking at you, and the fact that his lips are a few feet away from yours - and his smug grin crawling underneath your skin and making you twitch.

you cover your face with your hands, feeling the warmth on your palms, as you feel his hands curl around your wrists, prying them off of your face. and when you look up at him, at the soft smile on his face, as you can’t help but frown at him.

“no…”

sukuna smiles.

“are you lying to me?”

you deflate.

“maybe a little.”

sukuna secures his hands around your waist, before fully lifting you up and placing you on the counter. and he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek before he wordlessly starts rummaging through different cabinets in his kitchen and the fridge, fully intent on making you the breakfast you were promised.

you can’t help but watch him, as he muses around his kitchen, slicing vegetables on the cutting board and fruits on the side. at how he entirely discards the conversation you just had like it was nothing.

from two feet away, sukuna is very, very appreciative of you. because you’re not very proud. and despite your first attempts, you’re honest too. because he knows for a fact that your hesitation to state your thoughts is because you don’t want to write sukuna off as something so…lewd. even if you think it’s true. and that of course, any hesitation on your part comes from something deeper than him.

the deep seated distaste you seem to have for yourself. though sukuna’s entirely unsure why it’s there in the first place. he slices a strawberry in half, letting the eggs cook at his side, before he makes a residence standing in between your legs.

he hands you one of the halves of the strawberry, before popping the other in his mouth and leaning into your space.

“i don’t think you’re a manwhore.” you clarify.

“okay. i don’t think you’re one either.” he responds.

you smile.

“but you do think that’s the only reason you’re here?” he pokes.

“no! no, i don’t think that. i just-”

you sigh, placing your hands flat on the fabric of his hoodie, as you crumple it into your fists.

“sorry. i’m not very good at this type of thing. and-and you’re like…you know. reputation. and you obviously have needs! and megumi thinks you’re a womanizer.”

sukuna snickers, as you release his hoodie, and you deflate slightly. mainly at the fact that he’s not offended. and letting you ramble - and say ten different things you shouldn’t - openly.

sukuna doesn’t shy away from what exactly it is that you think of him. or what that godawful sea urchin megumi thinks either. because it’s naturally, quite simple. and somewhat true. because he finds it hard to stay in one place for a long time. and as you very keenly put it, he had needs.

though, that rule, as sukuna was painstakingly reminded of, didn’t apply to you. because again, you transcended any normal guideline that sukuna had. which is why he was keen on making you breakfast two days later, on his day off. and make your favorite, which he specifically remembers from the camping trip.

“i’m not sure what thing you’re referencing. and make no mistake. i don’t talk in tongues like you do. if i invite you over for breakfast, it’s because i want to eat breakfast with you.” he responds.

“you were the one who said you were going to eat me.” you defend.

“you were looking at me like you were scared of me. like how prey looks at a predator before it gets eaten?”

“oh.”

sukuna pushes off the counter as he starts plating the food onto and feels his ego inflate when you jump off the counter and cling to his arm when you realize what exactly it is that he made.

“sukuna. i love french toast!”

“yes. i’m well aware.”

"how'd you know?" you ask.

sukuna looks over at you, the look in his eyes so devious, that you know you've certainly walked into something by stating it.

"you told us. on the camping trip. you've always been my pretty girl. even when you were fourteen."

you barely have time to even stomach what it is that he said as he lifts both plates as he makes a gesture for you to follow, seating the two of you back on his kitchen island. and when you settle in, sukuna gets to pick at your mind, with the questions that have been stuck in his head for the past two days.

“before i divulge my manwhore adventures for you, you have to indulge me first. how many guys have you dated? or talked to?” sukuna asks.

you hate sukuna’s choice of words sometimes. indulge. it’s almost like he knows he’s saying words that make you nervous. that make the sweat accumulate on the palms of your hands.

“where’d you learn how to make french toast like this?” you ask, deflecting.

“i asked first.”

you swirl the eggs around on the plate - moving them from the left, to the right, and back to the left - before you answer.

“i had a crush on this guy named dean from sixth grade to eighth grade. all of the boys in school got dared to slow dance with different girls and he picked me. it was an awkward four minutes of halo by beyonce but i loved him after that. he was funny. and cute.”

“did you date?” he asks.

“oh, of course not. he started liking this girl named kimi in eighth grade.”

sukuna’s not exactly sure if this is the question he asked. but you keep going. and it’s intriguing to him nonetheless.

“in my sophomore year of highschool, i had a crush on this guy named parker. he was kind of nerdy, like the stupid type? my english teacher would always put us in group projects together, and when i asked him why, he said it was because he wanted us to get married.”

“that’s an appropriate thing to say to a fifteen year old.” sukuna bites.

“no! my teacher had this dream to go to two of his students weddings, that met in his class.”

“and what killed that extremely inapprorpiate dream, dead in its tracks?”

“my best friend. we all somehow ended up in the same friends group our junior year. and they kind of started flirting. dated all the way till our freshman year of college.” you respond.

sukuna curbs the question that comes to the forefront of his mind. because it occurs to him that his plausible answer to it, one that he despises, is exactly what’s going to be the answer. that if they liked each other, you were going to let them. despite the fact that you liked him first.

“any more for me?” sukuna asks.

“my first boyfriend was in my senior year of highschool.”

sukuna feigns shock, as you fight the urge to laugh.

“have we finally arrived to a real boyfriend?”

you laugh, as you settle your hand into his underneath the table. there’s something so inviting about him, the way he’s hanging off the ends of your words and listening intently, that makes you continue.

“we don’t speak his name.” you state.

“oh?”

“he’s not a good guy. we dated until….my freshman year of college. december. and we officially stopped talking the summer of my sophomore year.” you state.

sukuna bites the urge to ask every question in his mind. on who this guy is, why you continued to talk to him almost an entire year after, and most importantly, why you haven’t talked to anyone else since.

except for him anyways. for the first time, sukuna finds himself being the exception. in a way that’s favorable to him.

“that’s all of them! your turn.”

sukuna smiles.

“that’s all?”

“mhm! it’s kind of boring, i’m assuming. in comparison to you.”

sukuna concludes one thing. that all three of these men, especially the last, were not deserving of you. in the slightest. and that each one had wrecked a sizeable amount of havoc. he curses himself for not paying attention when he was still there.

“oh definitely. you’d need to stay here all day if you wanted to here that.”

you smile brightly.

“that can be arranged.” you respond.

sukuna leans forward, lips a few feet away from yours, before he speaks again.

“you like to play hard to get, don’t you?” sukuna asks.

“what? what do you mean?”

sukuna places his hands on the rung of your chair, before pulling it flesh with his own. and he tests the waters, by placing his hand on your bare knee, right near the pleats of your black skirt. and he feels you instinctively press your legs together, but make no moves to push him off.

“i didn’t make the list?”

you swallow hard, entirely embarrassed. though, your first real crush you supposed is naturally the one that you’ve denied, vehemently, since you were four years old and yuuji asked you in passing.

because when your eyes lingered on him for too long, after he fixed the wii controls and dutifully handed you both your controllers back - of his wii, that he was letting you play on - yuuji halfmindedly asked the question.

why are you looking at him like that? do you like him or something?

it was a joke, of course. because yuuji just asked so he could start the match of wii tennis while you weren’t paying attention. that in the rush of it, you never got to consider the answer to it in full. though you suppose there’s no better time to answer it than now.

“i have this best friend. his name is yuuji.” you start.

sukuna’s alarmed. so alarmed that he pulls his hand off of your thigh, retreating it behind his back.

surely you didn’t really like yuuji. because that would stop whatever it was that was blooming right now. because he was not his brother, despite their identical pink hair. the farthest thing from it actually.

“i met him when i was four. and i barged into his house because he wanted me to play wii with him. you see, his big brother didn’t really like to play with him so he figured that i was the next best thing.” you state.

“he had greasy hands. so did you. it was disgusting.” he states.

“and yuuji didn’t know how to turn on the game. or-or remember which one it was in. so he called his very cool, much older brother, to help us. i’d never met a six year old before, and naturally if i had, i wouldn’t have thought he was so cool.”

“shut up.”

sukuna desperately wants you to continue.

“seemed like the real serious type. kind of quiet. dark blue shirt, black shorts. the socks that only go to your ankles. i didn’t even know that his name was sukuna until a few days later, when he walked with us to school. he didn’t even introduce himself to me.”

“did you want to know him that badly?”

“and he fixed the remote, obviously. had some six year knowledge we didn’t clearly. and-and he turned to me. gave me a smile before he handed one to me and walked away.” you state, shrugging at him.

sukuna’s satiated with your answer. mostly because, it seems you seem to remember the ordeal in as excruticating detail as he has. that you were wearing a pink dress, gold earrings, and a ribbon in your hair. that your skin was the softest he had ever felt, that you were the first girl who had brushed fingers with him when he handed you the remote, save for his mom of course

sukuna brings his hand back into your hair, feeling the fabric of the blue ribbon in your hair today, matching with the short cardigan that you were wearing. and he wants to keep this one too. yank it out of your hair and secure it to his keys next to the pink one he refused to return.

sukuna looks down at the fabric, at your hair sprawled over your shoulder. he can make out the length of your collarbone from underneath your tanktop and settles his lips right into divot, before pressing a lingering kiss into your skin and feeling you keel over in his arms.

“france.” he murmurs, right into your skin.

“what’s that?” you ask, dazed from the contact.

“i learned to make the french toast in france.”

he kisses up the length of your neck, making no inclination to stop even as you barely stutter your words out. and for the second time, can't resist and places his hands on your waist just to pull you straight on top of him.

"makes sense. that's just-just toast for them." you mumble.

sukuna can't help but laugh. he's never going to tire of you.

next part linked here

taglist: @ghostreadersthings @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

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gatorbites-imagines · 8 months

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Kinktober day 3

Michael Myers + Drugged and/or captured.

This is a spiritual sequel to the bondage/shibari Michael Myers prompt from last year’s Kinktober. This is a shorter one, cuz ya boy is busy with his studies 🤓

Pretty sure this counts as dub-con, so like, watch out for that ig.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

A year had passed since your last run in with Michael Myers, one year since you had panicked and tied him up and left him on the floor of your living room. And one year since he escaped the very moment you looked away. You had been on edge all year because of it, as Michael had never been found or caught, his killing spree even seemed to come to an end for the time being after he had left your home. This didn’t stop the entire population of Haddonfield from worrying as the next Halloween night approached.

Most who could afford it left the town for the week leading up to Halloween and afterwards, but you, like many, could in no way afford a two-week holiday. Your run in with Michael wasn’t a secret though, so the day before Halloween your manager had sent you home early and told you to return a few days after the holiday. It felt like they were signing your death warrant, but it also made sense to keep the murder count down if Michael was gonna come for you again this year.

Ever since the past Halloween it had been impossible for you to sleep, to the point where you had been prescribed sleeping medication. You didn’t want to take it the days leading up to Halloween, terrified that you wouldn’t be able to wake up in case Michael showed up again, but as you sat on your couch already feeling like a corpse you were regretting that decision.

There hadn’t been a single report of murder this year though, so at some point in your sleep deprived delusions you’d convinced yourself all was safe, popped your meds, and fallen asleep in your bed still completely dressed. But maybe you should have listened to your paranoia more, as not long after you had gone to sleep a familiar slow-moving shadow snuck through your house, heavy footsteps approaching your bedroom where you laid splayed out like a starfish, a pool of drool already forming on your pillow.

Michael could only give a small head tilt as he saw your unconscious body, unsure of what to do. Part of him had hoped for a repeat of the last year, as the feeling of your ropes holding him in place had never left his mind, awakening a different kind of hunger than his usual hunger for blood. Even as Michael crawled up onto the bed, his bulk causing your bedframe to creak in complaint, you barely twitched.

Michael panted under his mask as his hands shook, feeling an unfamiliar churning in his abdomen as he dug through your drawers, pushing aside knickknacks and different toys you kept laying around, pulling out a colourful rope similar to the one you had used to tie him up with last year. His work was nowhere as skilled as your own, but it worked in securing your arms above your head, leaving them out of his way as his wild strength tore your clothes to ribbons.

You vision swam as you woke up, your body felt too heavy and sluggish like it always did when you woke up with your meds still in your system. Normally youd only wake if you really needed to go to the bathroom, something you were pretty sure you did in your sleep most days, but this time it was different. Something heavy was bearing down on you, and as you tried to move you found your arms strung up above your head. But most noticeably was the wet heat around your length, tight and insistent. Even in your sleep addled mind you could sense the strong thighs boxing in your hips as the persons rough hands groped at your torso.

The half coherent part of your mind was sure this was all a dream, even as your vision cleared for the most part, though it was still blurry around the edges. Because how else would any of this make sense. Why would Michael Myers of all people be riding you like his life depended on it, knocking the air right out of your chest as his bulky form weighed down on you. It wasn’t the weirdest wet dream you’d ever had, and you were pretty sure you had overheard somewhere that fear could lead to lust.

He wasn’t moaning, which saddened you somehow, even as he panted and gave small grunts when you would rub against his prostate. Had this all been real, you would have grabbed his hips to show him how to hit that spot every time, but it seemed in your dream your arms were tied, and the sluggish nature of your body made it hard to even roll your hips up into his.

It was only when his hands wrapped around your throat and you could feel yourself become lightheaded that it hit you that this might be real, as your hips started to ache from the speed of his riding and your vision started to swim from lack of oxygen and not just the meds in your system. The orgasm rolled through your entire body, starting from the top of your head, and running all the way down to your curling toes as you groaned sluggishly. You were sure drool was running down your chin at this point.

You would first realize the next morning that Michael came just as hard as you did, as he didn’t seem to have cared to clean you up afterwards. He had been polite enough to release your arms though. Your hips were killing you all day, who’d have thought having a guy Michael size ride you like a wild horse would mess up your back so much. It was only as you sat eating breakfast that it hit you that it had all really happened, and you needed to sit with your face in your hands for a bit, trying to fight off the heat it created in your abdomen, trying to ignore the small hope that hed return again tonight.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #male reader #michael myers #slasher #michael myers imagine #michael myers headcanon #michael myers x male reader #michael myers x reader #slasher imagine #slasher headcanon #slasher x male reader #slasher x reader #dubcon tw

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uplatterme · 1 year

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a/n: i can’t title this. my wip list literally has it as “haitham gets scammed by dori ft. aphrodisiac”

cw: sub!alhaitham, dom!gn!reader | handjob, cockpolishing, usage of aphrodisiac, crying

————

“haitham? are you alright?” you ask out of worry, the scribe trembling as he uses the door frame to support himself.

you quickly go to him to help him out, but a slight touch of skin makes you flinch due to how warm he is. although, that doesn’t compare to the noise that abrupts out of his throat.

“dearest?” you question him again, only to get yourself pinned to the wall.

he presses himself on your body, grinding in a soft and slow rhythm. he tears up, muttering quiet apologies as he continues his movement.

“what’s wrong?”

“s-sorry…” he holds onto your body, desperately trying to get himself off. each friction has him tensing up that the more he does it, the more it seems like he’s edging himself rather than getting that release that he wants.

he pants, breathless. you’re unsure if he’s even sane enough to know what he’s doing.

you put your arms around him, helping him out as he continues to fuck himself on your thigh. his legs are unstable, shaking as if there’s an earthquake happening.

“p-please. need to cum…” he cries out, sobbing. his cock aches, outlining itself from the outside of his pants.

next thing alhaitham knows, his back is on the soft cushion of your bed. it didn’t take much work, considering his body is as frail as a historical artifact right now.

alhaitham’s lower half is so wet to the point you’re half-convinced that the man had cum outside before even getting here. his cock is twitching, and as your warm fingers envelop him, alhaitham whimpers, cumming instantly.

“my scribe, what exactly have you gotten yourself into?”

“drank…something—hn!” the scholar finds himself sensitive, too sensitive, no matter how minimal your touches are.

he grips the messed up sheets of the bed, unable to contain how his body reacts. he keeps telling his brain to stop, that it’s embarrassing how he’s spread out like this, under your mercy.

he wants you to stop looking at him as if you’re going to devour him whole like a wild beast…

“more….” he begs.

ah, is there even a point of him lying to himself?

“needy today, aren’t we? you said you had work to do…and now you’re here.” you tease.

“it’s not me…it’s because of that damn wine…” he breathes out, he feels you quickening your face and his body shrivels up into another orgasm.

“really. so why is it that instead of getting the antidote, you come to me instead?”

the pleasure is getting to his head. it’s almost as if you’re inside his brain, knowing exactly what he’s thinking.

“i…” he doesn’t see himself winning, even if he decides to think of something to say.

“using such a thing to your advantage. how irresponsible, my scribe.”

you play with the tip of his cock, your thumb slipping on his slit. he drowns in the sensation, all coherent thoughts leaving him.

he didn’t—he swears that he didn’t plan it to end up like this. he was just tricked by that damn merchant!

why didn’t he go get the antidote?

as your finger continues to polish his cock, his body quivers, wanting to curl up and away from the touch. he’s so close—god, he’s gonna cum. he doesn’t want to—he does—no—yes—please!

your other hand keeps him still, forcing him to endure and to not resist the overwhelming satisfaction that you’re giving him.

you’re going to break him. reduce his mind into nothing but a mindless puddle, nothing that the kind of scholar he proudly presents himself as.

he sobs even harder as he reaches another climax. he hears you laugh.

“you’re fine, my pretty baby. i’ll take such good care of you. don’t worry.”

“o-okay.” he responds with a grin.

#sub genshin impact #sub genshin #dom reader #dom!reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #sub alhaitham #sub!alhaitham #alhaitham x reader

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coconutdays · 7 months

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drunk pt. 2

s. this is part two to this original post! my attempt at a mutual pining ??? slowburn??? with the Honored One, Gojo. Y'all fuck after one of those intense movie confession scenes yada yada.

w.c. 7.2k

w. fem! reader , gojo! x reader , fluff! , angst! , slowburn! , smut! ( I think the slowburn is lowk angsty in my opinion) y/n’s cursed technique is basically like Wanda from marvels abilities, I didn't proofread much srry, btw this is my first time executing a fully fledged fuck so bare with me I tried.

You had only minutely interacted with Satoru ever since that day you went cursed spirit hunting with him. It was normal, nothing was weird or out of the ordinary after, but everything seemed so dull in comparison to that day. Although you could say there was less of a chance to speak when he did go overseas for a couple of days. And you were partially grateful that it was like that. You couldn't fret over your feelings for him if he wasn't feeding you anything to reminisce on.

On one of your minuscule interactions with the famed sorcerer, he asked you to take his newbie first years to a cursed mansion while he would be busy scouring Spain for a key that did who knows what.

Which leads to the current situation at hand.

"What happened here?" Yuuji asks, kicking a stray pebble a few feet away and into the bushes

"The owner of this place slit the throats of everyone in the mansion at night, then shot himself in the head." You squinted at one of the far off windows of the mansion, spotting something that would have most likely been a cursed spirit.

"Gross." Nobara's face turns into one of disgust.

"What level cursed spirit does it have?" It's Megumi asking now

You turn to look at all of them, a glint in your eyes.

"Grade 1"

"WHAT?" Nobara stomps her foot, "Why is Gojo sending us out here on sui-"

"I'm here." You laugh, a red flame swirls around your irises, "I'm the second strongest after Gojo. Give me some credit."

"Gojo gives her most of his missions if he suddenly can't do them." Megumi points out, "We're safe."

"Not entirely." You shift your weight onto one of your hips and cross your arms, "I'm here to intervene if things start going south, which I hope they don't, but under the situation it does then I step in."

That was twenty minutes ago, and things had gone south.

You were ambushed by more than one Special grade in the mansion and left the three first-years to deal with a cursed spirit much akin to the one described in the correction facility that lead to Yuuji's death. The others were almost alike to it, but they were starting to speak, forming words more coherently by the minute.

"What the fuck."

There were four surrounding you, and the only reason they weren't going for the first-years was because you sealed them into the top floor with you. You would have rather dealt with this by yourself, considering you had to hold back because the first years were in the floor beneath you, but you'd have to make do with your seal.

Much to your surprise, halfway through your fight, you could hear the sounds of relief from the first-years and one less screeching curse.

Good, they exorcised it.

Both of your hands were busy repelling your opponents away from you as you neared the staircase so they could hear you.

"GO OUTSIDE! NOW!"

"But you're dealing with four of them!" Nobara started, "If you-"

"JUST WAIT FOR ME OUTSIDE! AND CALL IJICHI!"

You could hear Nobara starting to protest, but you could make out the grumbles of Megumi to place trust in you.

When you got a peek through the window of Yuuji's pink hair, you let out a sigh of relief. You didn't have to hold back anymore, but you weren't going to be able to be the one to take the first-years back to Jujutsu Tech after this.

What you considered the cursed energy equivalent of an atomic bomb was what you released within the enclosed top floor. You concentrated on it breaking apart the curses and squeezing them out of existence--much like a bomb would.

However, the aftermath would be something you'd leave the first years up to. You didn't have to hold back within the confines of the mansion, none of the students were in there, but they were directly outside, waiting for you in a position where contact with the explosion would hurt them. The moment you release your technique, the confines the mansion burst, pulverizing the curses out of existence and subjecting you to the sheer force of your cursed energy being concentrated into one subjectively small enclosed space.

Your cursed energy treated you like shrapnel and launched you headfirst into the concrete ground near the first-years. It was the last thing you remembered before everything after started fading in and out.

You were in the back of Ijichi's car, at the center with Megumi and Yuuji on either side, grabbing at your body. Why were they--

Oh, there's gaping wounds on your stomach and legs.

Nobara is frantically turning to look back from the front passenger seat again and again.

"Drive faster Ijichi!"

Maybe you could start using your cursed technique to heal-

"Oh fuck!" Yuuji starts

You start coughing violently into your lap

Was that blood from your wounds or-

"Ow."

It's the first thing you utter when you wake up, feeling an intense soreness all over your body. They're mere action of lifting up a finger sending shock bolts through your body.

"Finally someone's awake." Shoko sighs carelessly, she's on her phone looking through who knows what.

"How long have I been out?" You groan, closing your eyes to mentally prepare for her to say 3 days or something along those lines.

"Two weeks." She gets up and walks to serve you some water as your eyes shoot open, "Constricting a nuclear explosion to only the confines of a mansion was not a smart decision."

You lean up against your pillows and start to rub your sore neck, "The first-years were right outside of the mansion. I had no other choice."

"Still not your best moment." She blinks tiredly, her careless look on her face.

"How are they anyway?"

"Fine. Small cuts and bruises. They were fine by the end of the day. Gojo's got them in the classroom right now."

"He's back from Spain already?"

"He came back the day after the mansion incident. Thought you would've remembered him poking your head to see if you could hear him this morning." She started to write on a chart, probably yours.

"I don't." You start to look through your faint memories to see if it held onto anything like that.

Nothing.

"Well, you should be fine to go home already." Shoko starts to walk out of your room, raising the chart she was just scribbling on moments ago, "You check out just fine. Get some rest before they probably send you on another mission by tomorrow."

By the time you put on some clothes, provided by Shoko, and take a shower at your place to soothe your muscles, it's been a few hours, leaving Gojo to stare at an empty infirmary bed, your scent lingering in the room.

"She woke up a couple hours ago, must be home already." Shoko mindlessly says as she walks back to her office with a stack of folders in her arms.

After your shower, you're on your couch watching a comfort show of yours while you snack on some ice cream to wallow your feelings in. The reason for your being upset quite obvious.

He should've known you were awake by now. Why wasn't he checking on you.

It annoyed you, both the fact that for someone who had been at your bedside this morning, he hadn't shown up to receive you in your awake state, and that you cared so much you started thinking like his girlfriend.

Satoru didn't owe it to you to come see you. He wasn't yours to be obliged and neither were you his to expect it.

But fuck if you couldn't help checking your phone every five minutes to see if he'd text or call you. Hell, you'd love for him to show up announced any moment.

He didn't though.

You went to sleep upset that night--mostly at him--it wasn't his fault for not showing up, but your heart couldn't help but be disappointed by his lack of presence.

You got called in by Jujutsu High to help train the second-years the following day. A mission with five special grades seemed more appealing when you considered the fact that you'd more than likely see Satoru once there.

"Look who's awake."

Gojo is suddenly walking next to you as you lead the second-years to the sparring grounds. He doesn't look in your direction, merely facing ahead, but he has that same unbothered smile on his face--it bugs you.

He releases a handsome chuckle before starting again, "You drool a little when you're knocked out. Did ya know that?"

"No, I didn't, Satoru." You exhale, distracting yourself by looking for a nice spot to have the students duel.

"It's quite--"

"Shut up Gojo, we have to spar."

Both of you turn to see Makki scowling at the object of most people's irritation, including yours. She's ready to fight, earnestly tugging at the straps of her bag of weapons.

"You pain me, Makki," He grins, fixing his posture to walk away, "Alright, then. Learn well from y/n, she's the second best after all."

He walks in the opposite direction from you guys, trying to taste the last breath he inhaled when he was next to you before he had to let it go. It was his own pitiful attempt at basking in your presence rather than letting his inhibitions crumble and grabbing you by the shoulders to ask if you were okay? what the hell were you thinking? he shouldn't have sent you on that mission, he'd apologize if he let that part of himself come through. If. But he won't do that.

The second-years did learn from you. Makki the most, almost coming close to handing you your ass in hand to hand combat after taking in a bit of advice from you. Her semblance in physical fortitude was getting closer and closer to Toji Zenin every day. Nonetheless, the keyword was almost. She almost won and probably could have been closer to that if you weren't so ticked off by Satoru Gojo. You were in such a zone, honed in on the negativity he procured for you by not giving you the attention you wanted, that you barely spoke while focusing on Makki's every move besides giving advice, your usual praise and teasing gone.

You showered after, the heat of the sun and physical exertion making you uncomfortable in your own sweat and forcing you to take the quickest train to your place instead of getting a ride. And you didn't want to come across him again.

The feelings were too much.

It was why you found yourself halfway through a bottle of whiskey, snacking on a charcuterie board you ordered for the fucks of it. You're wearing another set of those "skimpy pjs" as Gojo had put it and staring out your balcony to gaze at the city's night lights.

You just want him so bad.

You want to kiss him. You want to be in his embrace and tell him he the prettiest eyes ever. And he's a womanizer, it chisels away at your heart. God, he's probably tongue deep in a pretty blonde right now. There's tears raining down on your cheeks and you don't bother to wipe them away, choosing to take another swig of whiskey and accompanying it with a slice of prosciutto to tug some of the sharp aftertaste away.

It hurts, wanting him. He just needs to get from you. You need to get away from him. Fuck the friendship, fuck everything.

ding!

There's someone at your door and you're up to check who the hell is at your apartment on a Friday at 1 a.m. like a lunatic. Your guard slightly goes up the closer you get to your door, the idea of someone dangerous being behind the door coming across your mind. There's a patch of goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, suddenly growing alert at your own thoughts as you tip toe to your peep hole.

And of course it's someone dangerous.

"What do you want Gojo." You don't bother to be much curious about it. You want him out of your face.

He's standing in front of you with his stupid handsomeness. That same bottle of whatever he ordered the other night in his left hand and his irritating smirk on his face along with those blacked out glasses. He's wearing black pants and a tight black shirt too, you can even see a sliver of a silver chain on his neck.

You don't see, hear, or even notice it when it happens, but his breath hitches in the quick fire second between your deadpan question of his whereabouts at your apartment and his teasing question at your teary face.

"Aw, you cryin'?" He tilts his head, canines bearing as his lips curve further up.

It makes you want to use his own red, purple, blue, or whatever fucking color of the rainbow on him. He's a complete ass. Satoru Gojo is a waste of your time. He should forget your address, your number, your favorite croissant filling, everything.

You just want him away from you, where he won't hurt you.

"Yes. Insensitive piece of shit asshole!" You shout, grabbing at your door handle.

"Get out of my face!"

You shut your door forcefully and carelessly, paying no mind to your surroundings or neighbors in your drunken haze.

When you turn around, he's already behind you.

The wine bottle is already on your kitchen island and Gojo's towering over you, his eyebrows scrunched just a bit and his eyes continuously trying to analyze you as his irises move back and forth. He had taken his glasses off, they were hanging off the collar of his shirt now.

Your nose twitches a bit, cursing his ability to teleport. The hate you hold for it becoming a heavy pit in your stomach.

"Get out." The twitch in your nose goes off again.

The panic of the situation is startling to Gojo. You look beautiful, the skimpy pink romper you're wearing is all consuming to him, he wants to rip it off and take you to your room. The crying fit you were just having had softened your features and god the little twitch you keep doing with your nose–

And you're angry at him for some reason.

No, he's stupid. It's his fault, you were crying and instead of letting himself worry about you like a normal person, he teased you about it. His own realization makes him scramble to fix his previous statement.

"No–look I'm sorry for asking like a jerk. Why are you crying?" He takes another step closer to you, pressuring you into answering his question.

Gojo was trying to get a physical tell out of you. You had healed from the mission, right? And sparring with the second-years couldn't have left you pummeled. He couldn't see any wounds on you.

He felt the rise of his hand to cup your cheek, to force you to look at him and tell him what was wrong.

No, he can't.

You look up at him defiantly, biting your cheek and beginning to grow angrier, angry at him, angry at your heart, angry at the tears that still manage to flow down your cheeks.

You take a step back and reiterate yourself.

"Get out, Gojo."

There's a linger of hurt in his eyes, along with confusion when his eyebrows scrunch even more. You can see he's at a loss for words when his mouth keeps slightly opening and closing and his eyes look like they're psychoanalyzing you.

You roll your eyes in a teary frustration and stomp your foot like a two year old throwing a fit when he doesn't move even in the slightest to leave.

"Please, Gojo! Just leave!" You cry, voice cracking, "Get out of my apartment, leave me alone, I don't–"

You almost yelp at the sudden intrusion of your personal space. He's got an iron grip on your hands all of a sudden, forcing them out of the way in case you try to push him away physically this time. And he's staring only dead into your eyes now, an overall concerned look on his face that overpowers his slight irritation at your stubbornness.

"Tell me why you're crying."

You try to loosen out of his grip, only for it to do nothing like you knew it would. It forces you to scrunch your nose in distaste and turn your cheek to him.

"I don't want to see you." You mutter, your voice audibly nasally and battered from the crying fit you were having.

Gojo brings you closer to him with a simple tug of his hands, he leans closer to your face.

"Why." His breathing starts to pick up and it sounds less like a question and more like a sound of offense.

"Let go of me."

"Not until you answer me." He tightens his grip on you just a little for emphasis, to show you that he really won't let go until you fulfill his request.

You still don't want to look at him. You can feel his laser like stare at you, pinning you down and pressuring you into giving him what he wants. It's all too much, his touch is searing to your skin and the fact that his body is so close to yours in hazing your mind. It's so much that you have no choice but to turn to finally look at him and it sends you back to the state you were previously in before he rung your doorbell.

You feel the hot wads of tears start to tumble off your waterline as you vomit a singular word.

"You."

He reels his head back a bit in confusion, "What, I–"

"You! I'm crying because of you!" You babble through your hiccups and tears, "And you show up like a jerk! You didn't even care that I was crying! And–"

"What makes you think I don't care about you?" He jeers you closer, his tone obviously offended now.

"Are you getting early dementia or something! You did that stupid aw you crying bullshit!" The situation growing worse as your eyes go completely bloodshot and there's hiccups continuously interrupting your speech.

"You didn't even care that I woke up! Today, you just came by to be a dick about me drooling! Yesterday, you didn't even show up to see me after I left the infirmary!"

His grip loosens a bit at your declaration of mistrust in his care for you.

He cares. He really cares. You can't keep saying he doesn't, he thinks. He left Spain the moment he got an angry text from Nobara that the mission he entrusted to you left you on death's door. He spent every free moment of his walking by or into your recovery room. He walked by your apartment last night to see if you were okay, his eyes had seen you sleeping safe and sound and it was enough to soothe his heart.

None of which you knew about, he realizes.

By now, you've broken free from his grasp, taking advantage at his loss of words, and fleeing to your bedroom. A loud bang followed the small pit pats of your bare feet on the floor, and it brought him back to reality.

Gojo now stares at the front door of your apartment, eyes still glued to where you were previously standing. He feels like his heart is stuck in his throat, unable to come out and run towards you like it wants to out of fear. He can hear his heartbeat pulsating in the cold silence of your apartment and it makes him confront himself instead of you.

You thought he didn't care and it made you upset.

And the mere fact is gut-wrenching for him.

It's so devastating to him, that his feet are suddenly driving him towards your room and his hands are opening the door.

He noticed the half empty bottle of whiskey and glass on your kitchen island as he passed by too. It makes him even more wary as he stands underneath the doorframe and sees you sat at the edge of your bed, head in your hands and violently crying.

"I care about you."

You hear him, but you don't have the energy to beg him to leave anymore or even notice him. You're spent and too embarrassed of your outburst to look at him.

Gojo wishes you could look at him. He wants the security of your eyes being there for him to bask in and it has him walking to kneel on the ground in front of you.

You feel his hands, soft and tough at the same time, pulling yours down, away from your face. It forces you to look down at him. You see the breath he lets out in relief the moment you make eye contact with him.

You're so weak, you can't help but melt into the feeling of his hands on yours now. A salty tear makes its last run on your face and you're nothing but a sniffling and hiccuping mess as you stare back at him.

He speaks again, "I am so sorry."

"Can you please stop touching me." You rasp out, suddenly becoming aware of how much more painful this is for you when he's feeding into youre delusions.

You can feel his blood stop pulsing for some reason. His hands are suddenly dead weight and his eyes widen.

"I can't do this anymore." You breathe out nasally, readying yourself to ruin your friendship with him.

"I love you Satoru."

It comes out heavy, like a massive paper weight on the air both of you were breathing.

And suddenly, he starts to feel his blood pumping again, the hands holding yours beginning to grow firm in their grip. His chest moves up and down even faster as he stares at you because his brain just short-circuited. He thought the inner works of his domain and technique were all he ever had to worry about handling, but this is taking the cake. Infinity and the knowledge it covers is nothing compared to what you just said.

"And–" You have to take a pause to stop the tears brimming on your waterline again, "it really hurts pining after you. I shouldn't be upset at you for not showing up at my doorstep yesterday like a boyfriend would. I wouldn't be if I weren't such a fool for you."

You're harshly wiping a tear off your cheek out frustration before you continue. You try to settle the now free hand away from him, on your lap, but he takes it back, still looking up at you without a trace of a word making an appearance on his mouth.

"I need you out of my life. I want to move on." You plead, "I can't be in the same room as you or else ill think about how bad I want to be next to you. I can't be this close to you and not kiss you. I want to wake up after getting hurt from a mission and not drown myself in whiskey because you didn't show up at my door to check on me."

"No."

Gojo is looking at you like you're an idiot. His face is twisted in a mix of offense and disgust, part of his nose is wrinkled and his eyebrows are twisted.

"Gojo–"

"Stop calling me by my last name." He cuts, eyes now harsh on you.

You're confused now, bleary eyes trying to understand him and how negative he seems right now. You want to say something, but everything you can think of is at the tip of your tongue and you're opening and closing your mouth like a fish on dry land.

Gojo looks like he wants to say something too, and like he knows what he wants to say, but he's struggling to just spit it out as he minimally glares at you. If you squint hard enough though, you might have just been able to see the slight gloss of sadness color over his eyes.

"I don't want you out of my life." He shakes his head, eyebrows still furrowed.

You sniffle, "But I just said that–"

You're pulled down by your hands and your face lands right smack on his, followed by a kiss ensued by him.

The kiss is enough to send you to sleep, it's soothing and everything you need to forget all your worries. And it's a little salty, a byproduct of your fit, but it doesn't seem to matter when Gojo reaches a hand up to your cheek and deepens his reach a little, a low grunt of affection coming from his throat when you let out a sigh.

It was short-lived, but it said enough.

When Satoru pulls back, he's still concentrated on looking for tells on your face, trying to make he got his point across.

"I've been putting you at the back of my mind for the past two years." He confesses sternly meanwhile he caresses both of your hands with his thumbs, rubbing soothing circles in the wake of his words. "I care about you so much I force myself not to." The last few words giving him the inclination to hang his head in shame.

"And I am so sorry it made you cry." He sighs in defeat, raising up both of your hands to kiss them as an apology. He's looking up at you with his big blue eyes, pleading for your mercy and you want to move, you want to act. It's why you lean down and give him a small peck on the lips to wake him up a little then dive back in again to kiss him.

It doesn't last long in that position–merely five seconds–until Satoru starts rising and pushing you back onto the bed softly. He pushes you forward onto the bed to make room for his legs before one of his hands is perched right next to your head and the other is guiding your thigh to wrap your leg around his waist.

Your hands run and grasp at his hair and neck, making sure to appreciate the feeling of his skin beneath your hands.

You begin to moan when he starts using tongue on you and it gets a rise out of him in the form of him grinding his bulge against your crotch.

"Satoru."

"Fuck." He groans, breathing hard as he kisses you. He can't just leave after this. He can't go back to his apartment. Hell he doesn't even know if he could pull himself away from you right now if there were a sudden emergency.

He feels you moving underneath him and he opens his eyes mid kiss to see you moving down the straps of your romper. The action causes him to pull back so he can see what you're trying to do.

"What are you doing?" He breathes, lips rosy and glossy from both of you guys' spit.

You free your arms from the thin pink straps right as he says that and look him in the eyes when you pull the spandex like material below your breasts.

"What I just did." You nod down innocently towards your boobs.

"Fuck. Fuck." He groans, reaching to palm both of them. It only lasts for a second before he starts to pinch at them, rubbing them between his fingers and eliciting whimpers from you.

"Yeah, just like that baby."

It makes move your hips up in search of him and it has him leaning back down to kiss you, needier this time. Satoru includes more tongue than anything, wanting to just be in you, in your skin, everywhere, as close as he can get.

You start to yank at the bottom his shirt soon enough.

"Take this off." You whine

Easily and quickly, he complies to your request, grabbing his shirt by the collar and taking it off of his body. He throws it behind him and is about to lean back down when his eyes go astray towards your crotch.

There's a wet patch very obviously soaking through and he can see the mold of your pussy sticking to the damp material. It makes his cock jump at the sight and he can't help but run a finger across your slit.

It makes a shiver run up your spine and a moan leave your mouth.

"You like that?" He's staring you down when you look back at him after having shut your eyes in pleasure.

"Mhm." You nod, eyebrows furrowed and eyes blown wide with lust as you take both of his hands and make him grab the material of your romper. "Take it off of me."

Satoru doesn't need to say anything as he obeys your request. He pulls at your pajamas and helps you slide it off your legs, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation to make any witty or teasing comments.

What wasn't part of your request was when he held both of your legs up in the air by squishing your thighs together and dove straight for your pussy.

You almost scream at the sudden intrusion of him initiating a makeout session with your pussy. The squishing of your legs making the sensation more intense for some reason. You can hear Satoru groaning into you while he sucks on your clit. He shifts his weight so that his arm is wrapped around your legs to keep them together and you wonder why he switches to only one until you feel a singular digit of his sliding into your walls.

" 'Toru." You moan, legs twitching a bit when you feel him hook a finger up and apply pressure to that one spot that has you begging for more.

"Gimme another one, please." You urge, fisting at the sheets next to you for some sort of relief.

"I got on the first flight back the second I heard what happened." He confesses, breath raggedy as he peers over from the side of your legs and gives you the other finger you asked for. His entire lower side of his is glistening, you almost feel embarrassed that it's your juices.

He continues confessing and pumping his fingers in and out of you, the squelching noises accompanying his words.

"I was scared shitless." He almost grieves, a messy confusion of his own sexual energy and his pleading for your forgiveness. Satoru starts to plant a flutter of kisses along your thigh while he keeps his eyes on you. "I love you so much." He groans, extremely turned on by the increasing pulsing of your walls and the faces you keep making.

"Yea? Oh fuck–" The last five words he uttered were adding even more ecstasy to your euphoria and had started to plummet you into your orgasm when coupled with the deeper and faster pace Satoru introduced.

"Come on, pretty. Cum for me." Satoru almost sounds like he's begging, mouth opening in awe in sync with yours at the overwhelming sense of pleasure crashing over you.

It comes out in a long mix between a moan and a whine, along with the wriggle of your hips and legs as Satoru keeps moving his fingers in and out while you ride out your high.

You're heaving when it washes over and you're about to flinch at the overstimulation of Satoru's fingers when he pulls them out and puts them in his mouth. You can see him slightly roll his eyes back when he hollows his cheeks a bit to fully clean his fingers off and get your taste out of them.

Satoru lets go of the grip he had keeping your legs up, and he gets up to quickly take his pants off, followed by his boxers, and–

"You're big." You marvel, sitting up now and admiring the view, also trying to wrap your head around the fact that he's going to hurt. He's pretty and long, reaching a bit past his belly button when it slaps against his stomach, and his girth is scream worthy.

When Satoru looks down, you look so innocent, peering at him through your lashes before focusing your gaze back on his length. He sees your thighs shift against each other–a boost to his ego and his horniness–but he can also tell you're a little freaked out by the sheer size.

"We don't have to." He heaves earnestly, chest rising and falling a bit faster than usual out of pent up sexual aggression from fingering you and watching you cum, and the need to be inside of you right now, which he'd be more than capable of stowing away for now if you didn't feel comfortable taking him.

"We can make it fit." You reassure softly and lean up to tug one of his hands to you in the bed while his eyes widen.

Satoru is in between your legs now, eyeing you down with lust blown pupils, an animal like stare that has you shrinking into the bed the more it lingers. Truth be told, he doesn't know how to act now that he's got you underneath him, legs spread, and your pretty little face waiting for him to do something.

His first move is to kiss you again, he missed your lips in the brief few minutes he was eating you out and fingering you. The kiss makes your skin crawl and pull him closer to you by the shoulders you have your arms wrapped around.

His cock lands right between your lips after that and it makes both of you suck in a breath the contact, a needy grind of both of yours' hips following.

"I want you inside of me 'Toru." You sigh against his ear as he dips his head down into your neck, mouthing and biting.

You feel his grip in the sheets right next to your head tighten and manage to get a view of his large and broad back contorting at the sentence.

"How bad do you want it?" He almost snarls, moving his hips so his cock keeps sliding between your folds, gathering your slick on his shaft and stimulating your clit in the process. His head leans down even further and he's sucking on your nipple, nipping a bit to get squeals out of you for not answering him as fast he wanted you to.

"I want it really bad." You can't stand the pulsating between your legs anymore, your hips can only move towards him for so long before you feel like you'll die. You needily scratch at his back when his other hand pinches your nipple particularly hard. "I feel like I'm gonna die if you don't fuck my pussy right now." It comes out whiny and high-pitched, the overall want for him making you pathetic.

He comes back up with a crazed stare more intense than the last one and dives for your mouth again, aggressive and overwhelming, like he wants to swallow you whole. There's teeth and tongue everywhere, you wouldn't be surprised if your lips were bleeding by the end of this.

When you're caught up in the feeling of his chest on yours and his heavy breathing against yours while you kiss, he starts lining himself up to your entrance. The intrusion of his fat tip in your hole interrupting your ability to kiss and making your jaw go slack.

You start to lift your hips off the bed without thinking and Satoru wraps his arm around your waist to keep you in place. He hasn't moved any further, basking in the invitation of your warmth and giving you time to adjust.

"It's so big." You mutter, hand in his hair and the other holding onto his back for dear life while you look at the rest you have to take.

It's the first time he even so much as smiles a little when he looks up at you and you see a glint of his canines and a glossed over look in his eyes. "Yea?"

"Mhm." You nod, eyebrows knitting when he pulls back and inches in a little further with a shallow thrust.

He drops his head into your neck, trying to keep himself from biting the bullet and completely pushing into you in one go. "Fuck." He moans when he thrusts back in again

He picks up the pace a little with every shallow thrust that gets him an inch deeper in you and by the time he's fully in, he's giving you hard and punctual thrusts. You're close to screaming every time he bottoms out, mouth open while you whine and moan. It makes him take advantage and he swallows your noises by shoving his tongue down your throat. He licks at your tongue, almost as if he's trying to wrap around it like you're doing to him.

"Love –hearin' –that –pretty fuckin –pussy –take me." He grunts against your lips, punctuating between almost every word with a sharp thrust into you. The soft squelching sounds reminding him that he's very much inside of you and making a mess of you.

"I–" You struggle to speak, the sex taking away your ability to speak.

And Satoru doesn't care, reaching a hand up to your chin to make you look at him as he keeps pummeling into you. "You what baby?"

The petname only adds to your euphoria, making it even more difficult to respond to him. But he's still got your chin in his hand, and he's not showing any signs of looking away or stopping his pace.

"I–I mmmmm–I love–love you."

His eyes soften a little, still as ravenous considering he's pummeling your pussy for the first time, but they soften just a smidge nonetheless. And he moves the hand holding your chin to cup your cheek, running a soothing thumb as he returns the affection to you.

"I love you too. Fuck you're clamping down so tight. Shit. I love you so much y/n. Don't want anybody else to have you. Oh, god. You make me so fucking crazy."

The hand previously on your cheek is now snaking its way down, stopping until his thumb is rubbing your clit and eliciting porn worthy moans from you at the added stimulation.

"You're gonna make me cum Satoru." You breathe out, high pitched and almost moaning loud enough to wake up anyone within the vicinity of your building

The warning is an incentive for Satoru to lift one of your legs up, letting him reach deeper and keep the same pace that has your pussy doing that familiar chasing spasm around his cock now instead of his fingers.

"Cum for baby." He gasps out, abs flexing as he struggles with his own pleasure. "I know you fuckin can. Please. Please. Please. Need to feel it on my dick."

By the fourth thrust in the new position your stomach drops and your legs are spasming trying to close and fidget, but Satoru's iron grip on you stops it from happening. He keeps fucking you through it, staring at you as he does, making sure to frame the picture of you coming on his cock for the first time in his head for all of eternity.

There's less resistance from you when you fall limp after and just take it. Your legs feel like jelly and fall even more moldable to Satoru's physical requests, letting him push your leg farther back and dig even deeper into you how he wants. You know it hurts, that you're supposed to at least try to push away his cock from molding into you again and again even after you've reached your peak, but it just feels so damn good to hurt this way. All you can do is squeal after every thrust of his. And when you feel his pace grow sloppier and faster, it makes you reach for his neck and hair, roping him into you.

"I'm gonna cum." Satoru's cheeks are rosy and his eyes are glazed over as he looks at you, desperation for his release written all over them.

"Cum for me 'Toru." You whine, eyes almost rolling back from a particular jolt of his hips and leaning up as much as you can to plant a chaste kiss on his bottom lip. "Want your cum to fill me up. I need it so bad."

"Please, 'Toru. Cum in me, please."

It drives him over the edge. He drops his weight on you to kiss you through the stuttering of his hips and jolts of his cum into you. You feel his warmth pooling inside of you and can hear both of you guys' labored breathing after the whirlwind sex you just had.

Satoru's rough and passionate kisses from seconds ago turned into chaste quick ones that he kept stealing from you until he shifted his weight from his palm to his forearm and cupped the side of your face, affectionally moving a stray hair from your forehead.

His sky blue eyes peered down at you, taking in the sight intensely, as if any moment you could try to push him away from your life again.

"You're so beautiful." He breathes in awe, gaze turned soft.

"So are you." You replicate his tone, cupping his face in return and appreciating the fact that he looks so pretty and handsome in the moonlight seeping through your floor to ceiling windows right now.

He grabs at one of the hands on his face and brings it to his lips, placing a warm kiss atop of it.

"I was here last night." He confesses, "I passed by your apartment to see if you were fine while you were sleeping." He wants to look away in shame. "I didn't think– There was–"

Satoru closes his eyes in frustration for a second at himself before finding his footing again.

"I've been doing everything I can to be there for you without you knowing, without me knowing, I didn't even know I was going to spend the entire day with you that other day until my mouth found a reason to make it about work."

He sighs at himself before he continues, "I care."

"I spent every moment I could waiting for you to wake up. I checked on your apartment to clean it. I looked for your cursed energy anytime I was within a vicinity of the school to see if you were recovering. I care."

You're close to speechless at his confession, resisting the urge to pull him down and litter his entire face in kisses, instead forcing yourself to speak.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you." You return sheepishly, feeling bad for the tantrum you threw at him.

"It's fine." Satoru reassures, planting a kiss on your forehead before looking down at where the two of you are connected. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." You bite your lip sweetly, letting a little bit of your love fueled smile come through while you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer in your embrace. "I could never cum like that by myself."

Satoru leers over you like a predator now, a full smile showing through and distinctly premiering his canines, his ego was stroked, "Good thing I'm here now then."

"Mhm" You nod eagerly, matching the upturn of his lips too.

"Oh. Come here." He groans and laughs a little, a hand on your back when he flips the both of you over and litters your face with kisses. Your giggles fuel him and he pulls you closer to him.

Neither of you are going to let go again.

#I did not know this would only be two parts LOL #also did not know this would turn into a smut but then I got to a point where I was like bro who wouldn't start fucking here #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo smut

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

Hello you wonderful, WONDERFUL creation of brilliance! I have another request for the 1k if thats alright.

I think it would be two ghosts?? But its reader x remus (again) where she know hes a werewolf without being told and uses halloween to tell/show him because she can see how guilty he feels for not telling her and scared to tell her.

How/why she knows and how she tells him is up to you love!!

Thank you love x (hopefully that's coherent, toddlers suck and ive only slept 3hrs 😭)

Thanks for requesting (and omg, I hope the toddler(s) become more manageable) <3

join the party

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Remus comes to the door looking endearingly rumpled. He’s wearing pajama bottoms and a wrinkled t-shirt, his hair is fluffy from lying in bed all day, and his pillowcase has left a faintly pink crease on his cheek. You gather all this from the split second between him opening the door and promptly shutting it in your face.

“Remus?” you knock again. “Come on, let me in.”

After a moment in which you can picture him sighing laboriously on the other side, the door cracks open just wide enough for you to see one eye, narrowed with displeasure. Were it anyone else or under any other circumstances, you’d really be quite offended. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

You hold up your bag. “I didn’t think you’d want to face the slew of trick-or-treaters bound for your house alone. I brought movies for us and candy for them. Or, well, the candy can be for both, actually.”

Remus is silent for a moment, and you press at the door insistently. “Let me in, Rem.”

He capitulates with a sigh, stepping back to let the door fall open. His apartment is dark, every curtain drawn, and it takes your eyes a second to adjust after stepping out of the sunlight. There’s half a dozen empty takeout containers strewn about the coffee table, and the space has the stale aroma that comes from lack of movement.

Remus has that aroma, too, you realize as you step closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek regardless. He looks like he could use it.

“Sorry about the mess,” he says dully. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Course you weren’t,” you wave him off. “How could you have been? You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

Remus closes his eyes as if this conversation is already too much for him, and you feel instantly guilty.

“It’s okay, honey,” you say gently, stacking the takeout containers to clear some space for your candy. “You’re allowed to take some time to yourself. It’d be nice if you’d let me know in the future, but I’m not upset at you. I promise.”

His features relax slightly, a tension you’d barely noticed around his eyes easing. “Thanks, love. Sorry.”

“It’s really alright,” you promise, taking him by the hand to pull him down onto the couch with you. “Listen, you seem like you’re not feeling well, so I know you might not want company right now, but would you be open to just having a relaxing night? We can watch Halloween movies and eat sweets, and I’ll handle all the trick-or-treaters.”

“Yeah?” Remus looks at you with something between hope and sadness, and your heart breaks for him. You squeeze his hand lightly, like your boyfriend is a sponge that you can squeeze all the woe out of and force to absorb your love instead. “That sounds really nice, dove. Thank you.”

“Course,” you say brightly, and you’re unable to resist pressing your lips to his cheek again before you turn back to your bag, laying your small collection of movies on the table. “Okay, we have some options.”

Remus hums. “Well, there’s Halloween, the obvious choice.”

“But too obvious?” you muse. “I mean, we definitely have time to watch more than one, but we only get to watch these at a certain time of year, love. Let’s not be hasty.” He chuckles, and your heart flutters. “I know The Exorcist is a classic, but it might be too scary for me, honestly. Um…Dracula is good…oh! This one’s my favorite.”

Remus looks to where you’re pointing. “The Werewolf of Washington?”

You pretend you don’t hear the slightly hoarse quality of his voice. “Yup! It’s so funny, and I like that it’s technically a Halloween movie even though werewolves aren’t really scary.”

He pauses. “You don’t think so?”

You do your best to appear blasé, knowing you have to tread carefully here. “No, of course not,” you say, as if the mere idea is foolish. “I mean, they’re dangerous, sure, but as people, they don’t really mean any harm. It’s not their fault.”

Remus is being oddly quiet, and you babble on anxiously.

“If I were a werewolf, I’d hope my friends wouldn’t care about me any less. It’s not like it’s me, it’s just something I have to deal with once a month. I mean, would you stop loving me if I turned out to be a werewolf?”

“No,” Remus says slowly, eyes narrowed to the point where they’re just amber. The circles under his eyes look really dark, you note with concern. You wonder if he hasn’t been sleeping. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

You take a breath, gnawing on your lip. “I think it’s more about if there’s anything you want to tell me.”

He slouches into the cushions, features slackening in resignation. “Seems like you already know.”

“I’m sorry to do it this way,” you say genuinely, grateful that he hasn’t pulled his hand from your grip as you run your thumb over his knuckles soothingly. “I know it’s your secret, and you should get to tell anyone whenever you like, but I’ve known for awhile, and when James told me how down you’ve been this week—”

“What,” Remus says sharply, “did James say exactly.”

“He only told me that you were sick. I asked if you might like a visitor, and he said he thought you’d rather be alone.” Remus sighs, tipping his head back against the couch. You can see the strain of the upcoming full moon on his face, his features pale and gaunt.

“He didn’t have to tell me, honey,” you say quietly. “I guessed on my own. I know it’s a big deal, and I’m sure it’s been a massive burden for you." You run your thumb tenderly over the dark circles under his eyes. “I just wish you wouldn’t assume it’d be a burden to me, too. Give me some credit here, Lupin.”

You feel his cheek twitch as he resists a smile, however small.

“I don’t care, you know,” you go on, emboldened. “I just want to be there for you. It’s killed me not being there for you every month. I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Remus opens his eyes, and your heart swells at the fondness in his gaze, even if it's mingled with wariness.

“Would you watch some movies with me, please?” you ask enticingly. “Or we can nap, or just sit here. Whatever you want to do.”

“You sure you want to stick around?” he asks, and you know he’s talking about more than just tonight. “This time of the month is not pleasant. I’m not pleasant.”

You let your hand slide from his face down to his shoulder, rubbing delicately. “I don’t need you to be pleasant,” you tell him. “I just need you to let me be here.”

Remus sighs. “Alright, but we’re watching Halloween. That werewolf movie is shit.”

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melodic-haze · 16 days

Note

YK HOW CLORINDES BUTTON IS FIGHTING FOR ITS LIFE ON HER UNIFORM RIGHT. Then imagine reader noticing it and just tearing it apart and suck her tits. That’s a need fr 🤤

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Clorinde x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Nipple obsession 🫶, she gets kinda perved on a lil bit but that's just people looking at her and her whoreass fit like!!! What!!!!!!!, idk what else ngl

☆ — NOTES: Dude how the fuck do her clothes even work. Like I've been staring at it for a while now like what. How???? Anyway it's 1 am sorry if it isn't coherent

Clorinde's buttons are fighting for their lives and so am I

"Appropriate uniform" my nonexistent left NUT how the HELL!!! Is that allowed!!!!!!!

No but seriously it must be such a struggle to watch her walk around like that. Like what. What why what

You couldn't help but stare at your lover's chest—more specifically, her button-up that was practically struggling to hold on.

"..Clorinde?"

She lifts her head to look at you with a light smile on her face, temporarily pausing her movement to put on her shoes, "Yes, my dear?"

You cleared your throat as you leaned on the wall, looking at your eyes still locked onto that same spot, "Do you not get.. you know, a clothing violation or something?"

"Why?" She tilted her head in what is indesputably, undeniably real confusion, "I do not see why I would."

She probably feels it though. Or at least you'd assume so, with how tight her clothes seem to be on her.

"..Nothing. Just, um," you scratched the nape of your neck sheepishly before shaking your head and forcing your eyes on her own, "good luck at work today."

She nods and says her goodbyes before leaving out the door.

Hm.

When you're outside, for some reason you can't help but notice that people are staring at her awfully lot!! It could be because like she's the Champion Duellist so obvs they'd be in awe.........but it doesn't seem like they're in awe for that reason, with the way they look at her restricted chest when they're close enough. Is it just today that they're noticing this?? Or is it just today that YOU'RE noticing them looking at her??????

Whatever it is, it's pissing you off a little (a lot)!!! She has the audacity to say she doesn't know what you're on about when she's being gawked at bc of the same reason YOU were gawking at her for

By the time the day ends you're about to lose it (I would personally 🫶) so you're waiting in your room for her before she comes back, all oblivious to the MANY stares she's had and the. Wardrobe malfunction that was going on there. The moment she gets back, dude POUNCE HER because I fuckin would 😭😭😭

Don't give her time to even think of anything—not like she'll need the time, she'd abandon all trains of thought for once the moment you're both in the mood. Kiss her HARD, she'll happily let you and your tongue lead like a familiar dance between the two of you

What ISN'T familiar, though, is when you grasp onto the opening part of her button-up and tug on it. And not tug on it normally like you would to suggest that she takes her clothes off, nonononono I mean FORCING IT TO SPLIT

She breaks the kiss to ask you what you're doing and that you're putting a LOT of force into-- OH SHIT IT POPPED OPEN!!!! The buttons didn't really need any encouraging by that point but with your help it popped off to god knows where 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ but colour her SURPRISED she did NOT expect you to do that

Or did she

Anyway she's quite literally about to complain to you, saying that that was her clothes you JUST ripped open what the heck!!!! But then you kinda easily shut her up the moment you tug her bra down and start paying attention to her tits

Bite em hard, suck em real nice and leave a VERY obvious mark on them so that she thinks twice about wearing things that will DEFINITELY expose her at any given minute. Play with her nipples too, and don't forget to give attention to the neglected side❗️❗️

She'll shut up real quick if you pay SOOO much attention to them, pulling you in even further via holding your head closer to you. She'll even comb your hair too, if you have any :3 though she might accidentally tug on them if you do smth that particularly gives her a shock lol

Atp rip her tights for access too, she won't even care anymore now that you've ripped her shirt open 🤷‍♀️ she says she has more anyway what's one loss gonna do?? Rip it and massage her clit as you don't stop spoiling her breasts, sucking them as if something's gonna come out if you persevere hard enough, and I promise she'll be breathing so fucking heavily as she begs you for more. More of what? She can't even clarify, the ever so composed Duellist is at an utter loss!!!!!

Plunge your fingers in and you can feel how wet she is, how Easily your fingers just slip into her and move in and out, how her folds practically flutter around your digits from every lick and suck of her nipples like a bitch starved AND possessed

If you curl your fingers a certain way and suck on her tits at the same time too???? Oh FUCK you're ripping out SUCH a huge orgasm from her that has her bucking her hips and grinding them into your palm and you need to fuck her through it!!!! Fuck her through her high and bring her down......and even after that she kinda don't gaf if she's absolutely dirtied her attire atp or made a mess as she drags you off for more, hat probably on the ground and forgotten

She'd care when you're like DONE done though, with her sighing in such a way that you do feel like you should probably help bc you DID still rip her shit apart 😭

But yeah dude everyone can stare all they want but only YOU get the privilege of going feral and tearing her clothes apart just to touch her and taste her in any way you can. Mark her up so that underneath her clothing, as embarrassing as they are, are all the proof that everything under the fabric?? That's all for you babe 🙏🙏

It was the day after, and you were looking at her and her clothing once again.. along with everyone else's looks on her, once again more filled with a mix of filtered lust and quite a bit of jealousy from some of the women due to how form-fitting her attire was.

She did say that she'll make a note to buy some looser versions of her outfit, but...

At the end of the day, it was Clorinde's decision to wear what she wants to wear. And it's not like it's ever hindered her work before—if anything, the fact that it's the way it is probably helps with her mobility somehow, especially when such a chest is sure to be a nuisance when she moves around so much.

..You can't really help but feel a bit jealous of your girlfriend, though. Or maybe possessive?maybe, but such a word feels like you want her all to yourself.

(You do, but still.)

But then you realise that maybe such worries are unfounded after all, especially when you overhear someone speaking of a dark mark on her neck, which she describes as a nasty bite on patrol.

You know it wasn't some random bite though, and it seems that she knows full well she's lying, especially when she sees you and gives you a small smile before pretending to scratch her neck to reveal that dark mark you had inflicted.

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worksby-d · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: Rough sex, overstimulation, using a safeword, 18+

Word count: ~1,000

. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹

You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you come undone tonight. Maybe it hasn’t even been that many times, but his sheer passion and dominance easily puts you in a daze everytime – Any coherent thoughts are out the window as soon as he starts calling you Princess and manhandling you because he “knows what you like” and can “do all the work so your pretty little head doesn’t have to think.”

A sudden sharp slap of his hand against your ass makes you gasp, pulling yourself forward–away from him–without meaning to. But his hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you back into place to continue his rough thrusts into your sensitive cunt.

“You don’t wanna do that,” he chides, slightly out of breath as he bends over you, effectively caging you underneath him with his arms on either side of your body.

“Ari,” you whine, slowly becoming overly aware of all your senses.

It’s like you can’t feel anything anymore, but at the same time you feel everything all at once. The feeling of his beard and warm breaths against your already-sweaty shoulder doesn’t help as you try to stop your body from shaking. It’s not until you weakly bring a hand to your face to push some hair out of your eyes that you feel the tears that are spilling onto your cheeks.

“Oh, you’re crying now?” He taunts, watching you wipe the tears away and let out a shuddering breath. He can tell you’re close again though, your thighs trembling against his. “You dirty girl,” he scoffs, sitting up straight again, punctuating his thought with another slap against your heated skin. “It’s too fuckin’ easy.”

You try to let go one more time for him, you really do, but your body won’t let it happen, jerking away everytime his balls slap against your overstimulated clit.

“Daffodil.” You choke the word out quietly, not even sure he’ll hear it over both of your labored breathing.

You’re ready to say it again, grasping on tightly to the sheets so you can focus on the ache in your knuckles instead of the the rest of your body going numb – Until you faintly feel him stop, stilling behind you.

It takes him a moment to register the word, but he instantly lets go of your hips and you softly collapse on the bed beneath him without him holding you up anymore.

“Honey?” He gets beside you, careful not to move too fast so he doesn’t shake the bed. “Hey, Y/N?”

Moving your face to the side so he can see you, he lifts a hand to caress your cheek but freezes. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes are still closed as you nod, but he’s relieved when you don’t flinch from the feeling of his palm on the side of your face.

“What’s wrong?” A shake of your head tells him you’re not ready to talk yet, the sound of your heart racing echoing in your ears is still too much. “Okay, just breathe.”

When you eventually open your eyes and put your hand over his, his concerned look softens. He carefully lays down next to you so you’re face to face.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. You don’t know why – If you were clearer headed you wouldn’t be saying it.

And he knows that. He’s not having it. “You’re so perfect. Don’t apologize, sweetheart. The point of a safeword is to be able to use it, right?”

You wish you could take a deep breath. “Uh-huh.”

“Does anything hurt?”

Shaking your head, you finally get one and you're able to let out a slow, heavy breath. “Just overwhelmed.”

He offers a sympathetic smile, laying with you for a few more quiet moments. His hand moves slowly to the back of your neck, his eyes studying you for any signs of discomfort.

“Good girl,” he soothes, watching you relax more as his fingers gently massage some of the tension at the back of your neck away. “There you go.”

Before he lets you get too comfortable, he helps you move up the bed enough so your head can lay on your pillows.

You close your eyes again, out of comfort this time, feeling the exhaustion kicking in. But feeling the bed dip beside you as Ari moves to get up pulls you back before you can drift off.

“Wait,” you murmur. Your hand on his arm gets him to stop in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Just wanna get you some water, honey.”

“Please, not yet.”

He's strong, but not strong enough to say no to you. So he lays back down next to you, letting you get close to steal his body heat. Now that you've calmed down, you have the chills. He reaches for a blanket to drape over you when he feels you shiver, just until you let him get up and grab you clothes.

“Thank you,” you sigh, nestling your face against his chest.

If it’s even possible, he hugs you closer, stroking his hands along your back. “Anything for you, pretty girl,”

Your cheeks easily heat up hearing him talk like that though and you're glad he can't see your face, but he can definitely feel you smile as your cheek squishes against his chest.

“I love you so much,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

When his hands begin to still on your back, you can tell he has something else on his mind though.

“Was it something I said?” He asks carefully in case you're not ready to talk about it. “I know I pointed out your crying… I say things sometimes–”

“No.” You're quick to assure him, leaning your head back to look up at him. “I like when you're rough with me. It just was too much for me tonight. I had a long day and I should have know I couldn't handle it toni–”

“Hey, it's okay,” he shakes his head, resting his hand back on the side of your face, thumb softly stroking your cheek. “I just wanted to make sure. Absolutely nothing is your fault. I'm so proud of you.”

“Okay,” you nod, laying your head back down. “I love you, too.”

. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹

Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersdrysdalebarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #ari levinson imagine #dest's kinktober

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pictureinme · 6 months

Text

kinktober day xxi. FREE USE – calvin weir-fields

word count: ~900 tags: unsafe sex, lots o' begging, typical possessive calvin behavior, nylon stockings >;) masterlist | ao3

You hum a nondescript tune as you dust the bookshelves for what seems like the twentieth time this month– how could dust and muck accumulate so fast? As you reach for a particularly high shelf, you feel a hand sneak its way between your thighs, causing you to gasp.

There was no need for you to turn around, you knew it was your boyfriend Calvin’s hand that was quickly making its way to rub at your clothed entrance. He had a tendency to take what he wanted when he wanted it, and you didn’t exactly object to such a tantalizing quirk of his.

He seemed to revel in the feeling of your nylon stockings and your lack of panties– why even wear them when he was so keen on doing things like this day in and day out?

“It seems pretty dusty up there, doesn’t it?” Calvin hums as he circles your clit through the thin fabric, acting as if nothing was amiss. “You’re such a good girlfriend, cleaning this up for me.”

You shudder as he speeds up his movements, trying your best not to moan. He presses himself against your back, and you feel his hardness– breaking that tentative hold you had on your noises. His fingers move with a newfound urgency, matching the rhythm of your breaths as they grow heavier and more desperate.

“That’s it,” Calvin whispers into your ear, his voice low and dripping with desire. “Just let me take care of everything for you.”

He bends you over slightly, your hands grasping at the shelving as his fingers move away from where you need him most. Before you can turn around, Calvin’s touch comes back tenfold as he quickly rips open your delicate stockings. You gasp quietly as he does so, the act so perverted in nature– but not unwelcome in the slightest. You also knew better than to question what he was doing.

“Look at that,” Calvin traces your folds with a single finger, collecting your arousal, “Always so wet for me– you’re perfect. Bet you were thinking of me taking you like this the whole time, right? Just couldn’t wait for me to be done writing…”

He spreads you open further with a grab at your ass, and you can’t help but arch your back in response, “Please, Cal–!”

It turned him on like nothing else to see you as desperate as he was for this, “Beg for it.”

“Please, I need you so badly,” you whisper, embarrassed at your growing want.

Calvin hums as he starts to unzip his slacks, “You can do better than that, baby, come on.”

“Need you to make me yours, use me, just… anything. Please.”

“That’s more like it,” he chuckles softly at your words as his tip teases at your entrance. “Not so hard, was it? We both know how badly you need this.”

He enters you slowly, groaning at the feeling of you wrapped around him. You whine as he settles all the way inside of you, gripping the shelf like it was your only tether.

“Such a good girl, letting me use you like this, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly for emphasis, “All mine, right?”

“Yes, yes!”

Calvin begins to move quickly, setting the pace as a brutal one. His mouth hangs open in a perpetual moan as he feels every part of you, “Mine, mine…”

Each powerful thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making it difficult for you to form any coherent thoughts.

"You like that, don't you?" He asks between heavy breaths, his voice hoarse with desire. “Like it when I fuck you like a slut– whenever I want, however I want?”

Nodding, trying to think straight, you gasp out, “Love it so much, please, Cal…”

“Please what?” Calvin pulls you back towards him by your hair, the grip making you see stars. “Use your words.”

“Please use me, please, fuck!” You were practically drunk with lust at this point, and so was he.

“That’s right, beg for it,” he lets go of your hair to fuck you harder, moving your hips back onto his length like you were a toy. “Such a perfect girl, God…”

You moan at his praise as he uses you as you begged for, the angle at which he was fucking you allowed you to feel every inch of pleasure he was giving you perfectly. You reach down to rub at your now exposed clit, which he, thankfully, took no issue with you doing.

“Yes, keep touching yourself like that, baby,” Calvin whimpers. “Gonna fill you up, make you all mine–!”

His thrusts speed up before stilling almost entirely as he releases inside of you– a feeling you would never tire of. Just as quickly as he stopped, he started up again with a hot whisper against your ear, “Come for me, come all over my dick, (Y/N)– you need it so bad, don’t you?”

Calvin moves his fingers down to replace yours, his rhythm relentless as he continued to fuck you throughout it. You shake as your own release finally comes, accompanied by a whine that’s like music to his ears.

“Such a good fucking girlfriend, Jesus…”

#calvin weir fields x reader #paul dano x reader #calvin weir fields smut #paul dano smut #kinktober 2023

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

Text

Nice Jacket

pairing: chubbybaker!bucky x fbiker!reader

summary: you pick up bucky from work for the first time on your 6 month anniversary

a/n: many many thoughts about soft bucky none are coherent :))) also I don't know anything about bikes so bare with me fudhdhd

/ main / bucky /

18+ only

no minors please

______________________________________

Bucky has been acting weird for a while now and Steve and Sam have been going over what he could be so secretive about. They got nothing. He's singing, dancing and making heart shaped pastry but they haven't seen him outside of the bakery like ever.

He couldn't be in love could he? Bucky rejected at least three people this month alone.

"Hey Steve, could I ask you to close up tonight I promise I'll make it up to you."

Steve lifts a brow because Bucky almost never leaves early.

"Uh sure but why? It isn't like you to leave early?"

Bucky blushes but quickly tries to cover it up with a cough.

"Mygirlfirendispickingmeupforourdate." bucky says all in one breath very quietly. He's not sure why he won't tell his friends. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to jinx it as it has been a few years since his last serious relationship so he wants to hold onto it for a little while.

"What?"

"Just need you to close up please." Bucky begs and Steve just nodds.

Time quickly passes, and Bucky gets a text that you'll be there in 10. He's not the fastest when it comes to getting off work. There's always something that catches his eye before he leaves, but right now, he's out of his work clothes in no time.

"How do I look? Do I have flour in my hair?"

Steve smirks when he realises Bucky is going on a date.

"Hard to look at, punk. And no you do not have flour in your hair."

Bucky shoves Steve and flips him off.

Thats when they hear a loud roar of bikes in front of the bakery.

"Which one is yours?" Natasha asks you lifting her visor.

"The hot one." you simply reply looking at the men though the window taking your helmet off.

"That doesn't help you know? They're both hot."

You roll your eyes.

"Do you think the jacket is too much?" You look back at the box at the end of your bike a leather jacket you've prepared for Bucky as his present. You've customised it with the patches of your biker gang and some other patches from his favorite band and his favourite books. There's also his last name on the back in big white letters. You hope one day you'll get the same thing on your jacked but that's just wishful thinking.

"I gotta go see ya later punk. Thanks for the help." Bucky taps Steve's shoulder before he leaves.

"You can leave now." You tell Natasha, who's being a menace and just won't leave until she meets your Bucky.

"When do I get to meet him?" Natasha groans, Bucky is all you talk about and she didn't think you could get so soft and giggly about a guy she's never seen it before, usually you're indifferent to the guys you date. But with Bucky oh it's all about Bucky, the blue of the sky is not as pretty his eyes, the cakes you eat are not as good as Buckys, anyways you get the point.

"But-" She's cut off by you turning on her bike and pushing her to leave, you'll deal with the teasing later tonight is special so, no one is meeting anyone tonight.

You run up to Bucky when he exits the bakery and jump into his arms, he smells incredible his cologne mixed with sweet smell of bakery brings you so much comfort.

"Hey, handsome." your arms still around his middle nails softly scratching his back.

"Hi doll." he looks at you smiling, moving a strand of hair that has fallen.

"Ready to go?"

"Ready."

You sit on your bike and wait for Bucky to sit behind you, he carefully sits behind your wrapping his big strong arms around you and you feel right at home.

Bucky will never forget the first time you took him for a ride on your bike, he was so nervous as he's never been on one before. He was holding onto you like his life dependented on it, which at that moment it felt like it did. He's kept his eyes closed for most of the ride, Bucky thought it was embarrassing but you reassured him that it's okay.

The second time Bucky was even more embarrassed than the first as he suddenly turned into a horny teen and got a hard on when you kept putting your hand on his thigh every time you stopped at a red light and the constant vibrations and moving didn't help. And again you told him that it's fine and that you didn't think it was embarrassing.

By now, he's already used to it, and he loves going on rides with you. He loves kissing you when he's balancing the bike, your legs over his thighs, your hands in his hair pulling him closer.

Bucky looks at the city around him it's always busy, always crowded. He smiles to himself when he sees you're taking the route to get out of the city, he doesn't know where but wherever you take him he'll be fine with it.

It takes less than an hour to arrive at your destination, you stop at a resting spot in the middle of nowhere. Just one table that looks out to the city, it's there susually for travelers that need to rest and be on their way. Tonight it's luckly empty.

"We're here!" you step off the bike and take your helmet off, then help Bucky take his off as it always gets stuck for some reason, the reason being Bucky likes you taking it off for him as he always gets to hold your waist because you have to get on your tippy toes to pull it off.

"I picked up some wraps from your favourite place, I hope they haven't gotten cold." you say as you're trying to hide the jacket that takes 80% of the box.

"You didn't have to do that. Thank you, doll."

"It's nothing." you also take the drinks and put them on the table. Bucky and you sit on the bench turned to look at the city line.

"Happy 6 months to us."

"Happy 6 months. Hope I get to spend many more with you." Bucky replies, and you blush.It isn't something you expected to hear, it's not like you don't want that too with Bucky, but you didn't think he felt the same way.

Bucky starts to panic when you don't reply, he scared you, he knows that you two haven't been together for a long time but he's never been more sure about anything or anyone else before.

"Listen I-" you cut him off with a kiss and tell him to wait.

"Uh I know we said no gifts but... I got this for you, you don't have to wear it and I can take these off." You shyly present the black leather jacket and Bucky takes it from your hands and puts it on immediately.

"I love it! How do I look?"

"Very handsome." you pull him in for a kiss turns into much more, he holds your neck, deepening the kiss.

Hours pass and you switch between making out and talking and Buckys fingers find their way inside your jeans and your hands find themselves in his jeans too.

As much as Bucky is shy in public he's totally opposite in private, he's needy he's loud and you enjoy it so much.

"My friends want to meet you. Apparently I'm obsessed with you and they wanna give you the talk."

"You are obsessed with me through." You hit Buckys shoulder and he holds it groaning in pain.

"Ouch. I'm obsessed with you too."

It's quiet for a while but it's not the awkward silence you're just enjoying each others company, your head on Buckys chest, you playing with his fingers.

"Thanks for the jacket doll. I'll wear it every day gotta show it off it's really cool."

And true to his word the next morning he wears the same jacket to work and Steve and Sam are all up in his business at 6 in the morning.

"Nice jacket where'd you get it?" Sam teases and Bucky does a turn to show it off.

"My girlfriend got it for me and she customised it."

"Someone is willingly spending time with you? I have to meet this brave soul"

"Shut up Sam."

[The end]

________________________________________

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky masterlist #sebastian stan characters #baker!bucky #biker!bucky #marvel fic #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky fluff

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scimitar-and-longsword · 2 months

Note

I love your headcanons. What's your favorite one about Nicky ? And/or your favorite character trait of him?

Oh my goodness, thank you!

Nicky Nicky Nicky 💕💕💕

My FAVORITE??? That's a tall order cause there are so many things I love about him. Luca did such a stellar job of taking this character who doesn't have as much screentime as some of the other characters and bringing him to life in the most subtle ways. (I have an entire meta about subtle face acting from him and Marwan lol which side note, is flagged for sexual content, and I was sitting here reading it like "what why?? This is just about facial expressions?" And then I got halfway through and went "oop- that'll do it 😅")

I wrote a meta about this back in the old days, but I think about it every time I rewatch the movie so I'm saying it again: I love that Nicky is fiercely physical with his love.

We certainly get to see Joe be more vocal about is love, (and it's a violent movie they all are physical lol) but every bit of Nicky's physicality and fight chreo is about protecting people.

He is constantly protecting those around him with his body (and to be fair, they all do this at some point. Perks of being immortal is that you can use your body as a shield) but Nicky just KEEPS doing it.

There's a subtle moment after Joe gets stabbed by Merrick where TO ME it looks like he's trying to get between Joe and Merrick. The guy holding back Nicky is like GRIPPING his shoulder.

Nicky is constantly going from the front of the group to the rear and back again. Like he needs to be the first line of defense against wherever the most unknowns are.

He does it when they first exit the lab they were being held in. He's second out of the door, following Nile's lead, but then immediately covers the rear (after executing a completely unnecessary slide move that you can only see in behind the scenes footage and always makes me laugh.) to then turn around and cover everyone else as they exit.

Then again when he takes the bullet for Andy, he's at the rear of the group with Joe, takes the bullet, and then runs through the ENTIRE group, while healing from said bullet, past the door they are going to go into (and presumably check that it's clear) to cover the other end of the hall. And look at that he's at the rear of the group again... Over the course of not even half a minute. Ping pong ball Nicky over here.

When Joe and Nicky are fighting Keane after the explosion Nicky is fucking reckless with how he fights, and mostly cause Joe is kind of getting his ass kicked. 😅 He throws himself onto Keane not once but twice! Both times when Joe is about to get absolutely bodied.

In a similar fashion, Nicky often acts like a battering ram, taking people down for Joe to take out just after him. (If you go back up to that behind the scenes gif of Nicky sliding you can see he does this there too. Shoots a guy in the knee who Joe then shoots in the head.)

Idk if this was at all coherent because I'm writing this on my phone while watching a Tinkerbell movie with my daughter 😂 so I'm sure I'm missing so many more examples of it. But Nicky is often quiet with his words, but he is not quite with his actions and I love that about him!!

#my stuff #my gifs #my metas #ask #anon #the old guard #nicky #the old guard meta #answer

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claymorexpunisher · 1 year

Text

Call Me Daddy (18+ One Shot)

This was literally sitting in my drafts and I got some inspo to finish it sooo. Enjoy, my loves! 🥰🥰

Pairing(s): Roman Reigns/Fem. Reader

Summary: Roman wants to be addressed properly. Reader makes it a bit difficult for him… until he turns the tables on her.

Tags: 18+, Daddy kink(at this point let’s not be surprised), fingering, humiliation (if you blink). Dom/Sub undertones, consensual kink, consensual sex.

Word Count: 714

I struggled to meet Roman’s steady and slightly amused gaze as he cupped my chin and lifted my face up.

When I finally got the courage to look into his brown eyes, both of his hands gently head my face before he pressed his lips to mine.

The kiss grew much more passionate very quickly, making me go a little woozy as Roman’s tongue tangled up with mine.

“Say it,” he commanded against my lips before he brought me onto his lap, nipping playfully at my bottom lip before he pressed our lips together fully again, weaving his fingers into my hair and lightly pulling on it and making me dizzy. I panted hard as his lips moved to my cheek, down to my neck and even lower onto my chest.

“D-… daddy…” I finally let myself moan as Roman released one of my breasts from the confines of tank top, and his mouth latched onto my sensitive nipple while his hand fondled the other. Mortification made my face burn.

My bones already felt like jelly and there was nothing I could do about it.

I smirked softly as I felt and heard Roman shiver against me as the word finally fell from my lips and I felt him harden underneath me.

I bore down onto him, moaning as I brought him as close to me as possible.

I gasped and arched into him as he lightly bit down on my nipple in response.

Roman released himself from his sweats, careful not to jostle me off his lap. And then he pulled my panties to the side and he firmly rubbed my clit and he ran his expert fingers over my dampening folds, getting me ready for him.

He smirked at the rivers of arousal he found between my legs and it only made my arousal grow. Before I knew it, my hips were moving on their own accord as his fingers toyed with me, gently stretching me open for him.

“Daddy.” I said in a harder, annoyed tone. The word felt more and more natural the more it left my lips.

Or the hornier I got for his cock, I should say. Who was I kidding?

Roman’s deep, mocking chuckle made me whine from deep within my chest and my hips never dared cease their now frantic movements.

He was toying with me in more ways than one and it was starting to piss me off. And he knew it.

“So that’s all it’s gonna take tonight, uh?” Roman quipped and his mocking smirk and heavily-lidded eyes met my disgruntled features. “Why don’t you say that again and maybe I’ll think about puttin’ my dick inside you?” He said crudely. He was teasing me, but I didn’t miss the strain in his voice and on the veins in his neck. I didn’t miss the way the hand he had still wrapped in my hair tensed every so often as if he were holding himself back from gripping himself and making me take him.

Fine. Roman wasnt gonna gimme what I want? I wouldn’t either.

“Fuck me and maybe I’ll say it again.” I challenged, feeling him freeze before he let another one of those deep, sultry chuckles that had me clenching around his fingers.

Suddenly, Roman’s fingers nudged deeper inside of me. The action took me by surprise and it caused me to dig my nails into the skin of his shoulders as my back arched. Through my arousal, I met his triumphant gaze.

“Oh you’re gonna say it. You’re gonna call me Daddy until I say so. Aren’t you, babygirl? We both know that’s how this is gonna go.” Roman murmured, biting his bottom lip as he watched writhe and whimper and shudder like a cat in heat.

Even if I wanted to say a single damn thing, I didn’t think that I could. As his fingers nudged relentlessly against my sweet spot, my brain went numb and I couldn’t think up a single coherent and much less smart assed thing to say.

Pretty soon, his fingers weren’t enough. And just like he said, I didn’t stand a chance.

I begged and pleaded until my voice was almost hoarse and he finally, finally had mercy on me and gave into my pleas...

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fan fiction #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x female reader #wwe smut #wwe oneshot #wwe fic

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boliv-jenta · 10 months

Text

Jackson era Joel Miller x f!reader (no age gap)

Not quite a fic, just horny ramblings about Joel.

Warnings: Sunday morning smut. Not proof read.

Summary: Joel has a very particular reaction to a certain pair of pants you wear.

Damn Yoga Pants

As soon as Joel caught a glimpse of you in the kitchen, he headed straight over to Tommy's to get him to cover him for the day. Tommy agreed with a wry smile as he watched his brother head straight back home.

You were still going about your business when Joel snuck back in. Your cheerful singing covered any noise he made as he climbed the stairs.

The basketball shorts he fished out reminded him of his younger days. In a way, he'd brought them home to recapture his youth. They were to wear when he trained with you, trying to keep the two of you in prime condition even as you aged.

To his delight or his dismay depending on what he had planned that day, you had found some yoga pants for the same purpose. Yet they were so comfortable they would appear on other days too.

Like today, you stood in your shared kitchen baking for him and Ellie, singing happily in the morning sun. Those damn thin, threadbare yoga pants on your legs. Hugging your thighs. Accentuating your ass.

He felt like he couldn't hold back even if he wanted to. Flour from your hands dusted the air as he spun you where you stood. The same flour covered his shirt as the shock wore off and you melted into the kiss he gave you, resting your hands on his broad chest.

"Joel what the…?" You questioned as he began to kiss you neck and sucking on your pulse point. The way it got your blood pumping must have oxygenated your brain as it dawned on you. "The pants."

"The pants." He muttered against your chest as he mouth at your nipple though your vest. Two large, very experienced hands found your thighs as he dropped to his temperamental knees. They smoothed up along them and round to cup your ass.

Those pants were so goddamn thin and tight. Joel wondered why they had split at the seams yet. He could smell your pussy getting wet through them. He could see the wet patch rapidly forming.

"No panties?" He swallowed thickly.

"Laundry day." We're the last coherent words you spoke. Joel's grip tightened on your ass pulling you forward to meet his face.

Those damn pants haunted him. They were like a second skin. They were so tempting. He'd dry humped you with them on. He'd made you come with his fingers stroking you firmly through them. He'd rutted his bare cock through your folds until your combined come soaked the material from either side.

There was one thing he wondered if he could do. If they were really that tight. Lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, he was determined to find out. His broad tongue came out to lick a strip up your pussy. It glided along the shiny material pressing the seam into your cunt. That might have been cheating a little but it still earned a moan from you. There were few genuine pleasures left in this word and the sound of your moans were one of them for Joel.

Joel was in no hurry for this to end. His tongue lapped steadily at your clit through the material. Only when he felt you getting needy with a tug of his thick, grey hair did he pick up his pace. He swirled his tongue as best he could against you until you sang again, just for him.

Dragging himself to his feet, he held you close as your body went limp. "Come 'ere, Darlin'." He lifted you up onto the counter next to your long forgotten dough. "Can you give me another one?"

"For you? Always." The kiss you gave him was broken by a gasp as he pressed his cock between your legs. No matter how many times Joel gave it to you, it always took your breath away. He was longer than average and so thick. He'd get impossibly hard. At times it was a lot to take but he always helped you to. With his words of praise or filthy encouragement or by making you soak yourself so many times that he slipped right in through your juices.

The heaviness of it ground against your pussy until another orgasm broke through. "Oh, that's it. You look so fucking pretty when you come. Gonna make you do it again on my cock." Once he'd worked you through your high, Joel moved his hips away to slide a hand between you. Confusion crossed your face until a single finger penetrated the fabric at your crotch and pressed into your still fluttering hole.

"Can I?" Joel's soft brown eyes looked at you pleadingly. Right now you would let him do anything. With a single nod Joel easily ripped a small hole in the front of the pants. A hole that was soon filled, much like yours, with his cock.

"Fuck, Baby. Look how dirty this looks." He leaned back to show you where his cock was disappearing inside you. "Still my dirty fucking girl. And my angel. My fucking everything."

The term you'd heard Tommy tease Joel with one time was 'pussy drunk'. Joel had a reputation of being quiet and stoic at times. That didn't apply when he was all worked up and balls deep in your pussy.

"So lucky to have you. You're goddamn perfect. This perfect pussy on top too. Must be the luckiest son of a bitch alive." He was still leaning back slightly slowly giving you about half of his cock as he spoke. He was just enjoying being soaked in you. "Wish I could spend all day with my cock buried in you. I saw those pants and told Tommy I wasn't working today. He understood. I've boasted about this cunt often enough."

Part of you was a little embarrassed at Joel's confession. Another part flooded your pussy around him. "Oh, you like that? You're my favourite topic when we're drunk. Sometimes I just can't help but boast about getting to fuck the best pussy I've ever had. About how well you take me. About how you ride my cock until I come embarrassingly quick.

Then memories drove his hips faster and deeper. That and the next part of his story had you clenching around him. "In my younger days I might have even offered if you wanted to give Tommy a taste."

"Fuck." Yet another orgasm built as his cock and his words hit a spot inside of you.

Joel chuckled before carrying on, his cock now disappearing through the hole at a rapid pace.

"There was this woman at a party. We both wanted her, she wanted both of us, she just wanted me more. I was a lonely single dad so I started fooling around with her. Tommy came looking for her and found her with my cock in her mouth. I asked if she wanted to give Tommy a little something before we carried on. She sucked him off, made him spill down her throat in minutes. Then she came straight back to me. Knowing that 'my' woman could have that effect on any man but chose me…shit, I didn't last long once I fucked her."

"How did you fuck her?" The thought of it turned you on more than you thought it would.

"You really want to know?" Joel couldn't help but smirk at his dirty girl. "I fucked her from behind. Hard and fast."

"Did you make her come?" Your words barely made it out as your breath turned to pants.

"Of course. She came around my cock, wailing my name, then I spilled my load into the condom."

"I bet you were the best fuck of her life. Oh, oh Joel."

"Shit, Baby, you grip me so tight. Fuck, keep going. I'm there. Milk my cock. Take it."

The other thing you never got used to about Joel was how much cum he could fill you with. His orgasms were long and drawn out as he pumped his thick release inside you. His beautiful face contorted in bliss as he filled you or splashed his load across your skin.

"Sorry, Darlin'. I owe you a pair of pants." You looked down to see his softening cock being pulled from the hole he had made.

"They can be mended. I'll add it to the list of things you can do with your unexpected day off." You slipped down from the counter gingerly, just a little sore.

"Really? Is it a big list?" Joel tucked himself away in those basketball shorts that drove you wild.

"Not really. Take a shower with me. Sew these up while I finish preparing dinner." You crossed the kitchen as you spoke,you were almost out into the hall. "See if your brother wants to come over…" Adding the last part, you bolted up the stairs. "....me."

Joel chased after you, it was a little hard with his dick reacting to your words.

@kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @manazo @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories @geekrenaissance @its-nebuleuse

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #no age gap #the last of us

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